


Against the odds

by britishbossy



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Bruce doesn't realise his feelings at first, Bruce finds a cure for Jeremiah's insanity, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Obsession, Post-Episode: s05e07 Ace Chemicals, cured!Jeremiah, not sure if this will stay a oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 07:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19291429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishbossy/pseuds/britishbossy
Summary: Fix it for ACE Chemicals:Bruce has found a cure for Jeremiah's insanity and sprays him during their fight.Even though he is cured, Jeremiah goes to Arkham nonetheless and Bruce doesn't see him for 18 months.





	Against the odds

**Author's Note:**

> https://effismonologue.tumblr.com/image/185788375624

He threw himself at Jeremiah once more, using his weight to pin the mad man down. Curiously, Jeremiah didn't fight back but went almost limp as he let himself sink to the metal floor.

 

“You feel it, don't you, Bruce? The connection between us?“

 

Each of his former friend's words fueled his anger and Bruce did barely hold back anymore as he punched him in the face over and over again. It seemed that Jeremiah's mind was completely off the rails for good now. It made him angry to see this maniac playing an act, wearing the body of a man he had once liked. But more than anything it made him sad. Devastated even.

 

“You feel it! Tell me you feel it!“

 

Jeremiah's voice got higher with every syllable and Bruce hated it. The fire inside his chest, eating away painfully at his heart at that voice he barely recognised overlapped the feeling of tears in his eyes.

 

So he leant down, his face only inches from the murderer beneath him and hissed:

“You mean _nothing_ to me!“

 

It wasn't true, of course. Bruce hated what Jeremiah had become. He despised the man beneath him and yet...

 

He caught a glimpse of pain in Jeremiah's unnatural grey eyes before said one headbutted him hard and shoved him off him. Bruce staggered back, wincing in discomfort. When he opened his eyes again, Jeremiah was standing upright in front of him again, slowly drawing nearer.

 

“Why don't you understand?“, he exclaimed as he threw his arms up, obviously just as desperate as Bruce was with convincing the other of their view.

 

Bruce went to throw another punch at the man but this time, Jeremiah ducked, caught his arm and slammed him into the railing. The green shine of the chemicals below them reflected upon his chalk-white skin.

 

“You _need_ me!“ Bruce took a punch in the gut.

“I'm the answer to your life's question!“

Another punch.

The young billionaire groaned and tried to push him off but the maniac was much stronger than him.

 

_He wanted you to hurt him. He let you._

 

The realisation hit Bruce at the same time as Jeremiah grabbed his collar and pulled him against his body, seemingly holding on for dear life. Their faces were almost touching and Bruce felt the beating of the other's heart, their chests pushing against one another and the smell of mint ghosted his face as the mad man's breath dissolved on his skin. The younger man blinked and looked into the other's eyes. His look was insistent, desperate even. It was the second time that day that Jeremiah wasn't smiling, he realised. His red painted mouth was pulled into a frown, his whole expression was so uncharacteristically...sad.

 

_Could it be?_

 

“Without me you're just a joke. Without a punchline.“ Jeremiah gritted out and drew back slightly. Bruce expected another punch in the gut and tried to steel himself, closing his eyes.

 

The punch never came.

 

Instead Bruce suddenly felt the other's lips upon his own, pressing gently. He gasped in surprise and Jeremiah pulled him closer in response, his gloved hands cupping his face. His heart seemed to stop right there and so did his breath. Jeremiah was kissing him. And all he could do was stand there and let it happen.

 

Then, it ended abruptly as Jeremiah pulled back but only slightly and inspected Bruce's face. His gaze was soft now, so soft as if...

 

_He loves you._

 

Bruce blinked rapidly, trying to find his senses again. He could feel himself falling backwards and suddenly, the handrail behind him buckled dangerously. Before he had any chance to react, Jeremiah caught hold of him, snaking his arm around his form and pulling him towards him roughly, away from the edge. He had used so much force that they both ended up on the opposite side, Bruce falling against his chest, his face landing on the other's collarbone. As he drew back carefully, still trying to understand what had just happened he noticed Jeremiah's look on him once more. His brows were furrowed, his eyes darted up and down his body, as if checking for damage.

 

_He loves you._

 

The younger man found his breath again and decided to act on that knowledge. He had something with him after all and Jeremiah wasn't suspecting anything, yet. So, he put his left arm around the criminal's neck and kissed him back with all he had. Jeremiah let out a sound of surprise before he reciprocated and Bruce felt the waxy slide of lipstick against his mouth again. It didn't feel bad, though. Jeremiah was gentle. The fact that a man like Jeremiah Valeska could be gentle seemed odd in that moment. But when Bruce reflected on it, the man had been nothing but soft when he had first met him. The memory of that day was still enough to fill his eyes with tears again.

 

_Focus!_

 

He had a plan. And it would work. It had to. He carefully pulled a small bottle out of his inner jacket pocket, his fingers moving through Jeremiah's hair in the meantime to keep him distracted. According to the soft moan that escaped the criminal it seemed to work. Then, Bruce ended the kiss as softly as he could, not wanting Jeremiah to snap out of this calm state. In fact, if he was honest with himself, he wanted him to stay like this for a little bit longer. It was nice, really, the way Jeremiah was looking at him like he was the most astonishing and most fascinating creature he had ever seen. The way he was holding him like he was afraid he could break, in sharp contrast to the blows he had just assaulted him with.

 

_He loves you._

 

“Bruce.“

 

Oh, and the way he said his name. Like a prayer. Bruce let his hand card through the dark green hair once more and watched Jeremiah's eyes flutter closed with a shaky sigh.

 

“Jeremiah“, he whispered and the criminal hummed in acknowledgement, his eyes still closed.

 

“I'm sorry.“

 

Before the other man had any other chance to react, Bruce uncapped the small metal bottle and held it up in front of Jeremiah's face. Then, he sprayed him. The grey coloured mixture clouded the painted face and Bruce took a step back in advance, as Jeremiah started to cough violently, curling in on himself.

 

It had taken them months but with the help of Lee and Lucius, Bruce had finally found the cure for Jerome's insanity gas. Or so he hoped. He had never stopped working on it, spending sleepless nights in the lab, desperate to heal his friend.

 

When Jeremiah sank to his knees, his face buried in his hands, Bruce caught his shaking form, tying to hold him up.

 

“No, no, no, no!“ The criminal's voice was changing from one word to the next, level and intonation spinning up and down. It was violent and hard to watch. It almost seemed that two sides were fighting inside the same man. He shook his head, talking to himself in different voices. However, the man slowly got more quiet and Bruce could see that he was fighting unconsciousness.

 

He gently lowered Jeremiah's body further down, the shaking slowly fading. His gloved hands fell off his face and Bruce gasped quietly at the tears that streamed down the white face, leaving a more natural skin colour behind. It was working.

 

Jeremiah blinked up at him, his expression unreadable.

“Bruce, Bruce...“

 

Then he went slack in his friend's arms and Bruce let out a sigh.

 

_This has to work. It has to._

 

Carefully, he brushed Jeremiah's now unruly dark green hair out of his face, watching his friend sleep. He looked more peaceful than Bruce had ever seen him. In fact, there had never been a peaceful time ever since he had known Jeremiah Valeska.

 

_He loves you._

 

The young billionaire pressed a kiss to the criminal's forehead when he heard the sirens wail outside the building, the green bubbling chemicals beneath them forgotten.

 

 

Lucius stood with him, their backs against the window of Jeremiah's hospital room. Both men had their eyes on the murderer's unconscious form, for different reasons maybe. While Bruce was filled with worry, Lucius was probably watching the man out of caution and perhaps a little curiosity. In the end, they both wanted to know if their cure had had its desired effect. Jeremiah's arms and legs however, had been cuffed to the bed. He still was Gotham's most wanted and most dangerous criminal after all. Even though, Bruce knew the police had only performed their duty, it had cost all his willpower not to protest. Jeremiah wasn't an animal. He was sick and he needed, he deserved help.

 

“How did you do it?“ Lucius didn't look at him as he asked the question into the room.

 

“I took my chance when we were fighting.“

 

“Yeah, but how did you manage to surprise him? Thought, he could predict almost anything.“

 

Bruce absently sucked in his lips.

 

“Perhaps, I just got lucky.“

 

Lucius eyed him for a few seconds before he thankfully decided to leave him be.

 

 

When Bruce first goes to Arkham a week later, they dismiss him with the explanation that it's too early for him to visit Jeremiah Valeska. They keep him in solitary confinement and no matter how hard Bruce tries to explain to them that his friend is no longer the massmurdering lunatic Gotham remembers him as, they don't listen.

 

After two weeks, he visits again, this time being told Mister Valeska doesn't want to see him or anyone else. They don't give him a reason. So, Bruce finds out the name of Jeremiah's current therapist and waits for him in front of the gate at the end of the day.

 

Doctor Kaufmann however, an honest man as it seems, refuses to give the billionaire any information about a patient, any patient that is. When Bruce begs with him to at least tell him if his friend is doing alright, the man seems to crack a little. He gives Bruce an understanding look.

“Perhaps it would be best if you stayed away from Mister Valeska for a while. At least until his healing process is completed.“

 

When Bruce tells Alfred about it later, still annoyed they wouldn't let him in on any information his butler offers him a new thought.

“Have you ever considered that it might not be advisable for a former obsessed man to stay in contact with the object of his former obsession, Master B?“

It dawns on Bruce that he hadn't thought about that at all. It makes him feel like the most egoistic person in Gotham.

“You can't expect an alcaholic to be cured when regularly being confronted with alcohol, now, can you?“

“No.“ Bruce agrees.

He stays up late that night, pondering on what this means for his friendship (relationship, he had, will have, couldn't have?) with Jeremiah.

 

He begins writing letters to him. He writes page after page about how sorry he is, how much he hopes that he is doing okay in Arkham, how much he would like to see him if Jeremiah would only let him. He never receives an answer. He keeps writing letters. The guards keep turning him away. Bruce starts to feel like an idiot.

Alfred tells him to be patient.

Selina tells him to let it lie, after all, he can't be sure if his cure actually worked and Jeremiah is probably still the insane killer who would attack anyone who steps too close.

Bruce goes to Switzerland for three weeks after this conversation. He doesn't want to see anything or anyone who reminds him of Jeremiah. Because it hurts.

It undeniably and impossibly _hurts_.

His letters don't stop, though. They become a sort of ritual as if writing to someone who has already died (when Alfred in worry brings up a comparison like that once, Bruce yells at him for the first time in years).

 

18 months pass before he gets a life signal from Jeremiah. It's a newspaper article about the former massmurdering clown's soon to be held trial. When Bruce reads it, he feels angry at the reporters who keep calling him nasty names and seem to have forgotten to mention anything about the cure on purpose. He throws the newspaper into the burning fireplace, ignoring Alfred's complaints about wanting to read it first. He has never felt so angry before.

 

He convinces Lucius to join him that day and of course, Alfred follows. In front of the court they meet Jim and Harvey. Both the detectives start to warn him not to buy which could be an act, resulting in Bruce walking away in the middle of a sentence. Lucius and Alfred exchange a look before shrugging their shoulders at the police men.

 

“How do you plead?“

“Not guilty due to mental illness.“

 

It's the first time in over one and a half years, Bruce hears Jeremiah's voice again. It makes him stand on his toes, desperate to get a glimpse on him but he fails. The room is packed with reporters, onlookers and perhaps relatives of victims. Bruce doesn't try to get to the front. It would be awkward and he doesn't want to alarm Jeremiah with his sudden presence. He had stopped his letters after reading the newspaper article.

As the trial drags on, he can't help but get on his toes again and again. He feels as if he is so close to catch a train he has been afraid of missing for so long and now that he is just within reach he might miss it still. He feels a desperate need to check on Jeremiah. How did he handle these past months? Is he like he was before it all went bad? Bruce doubts it. Nevertheless, he needs to know.

 

When the jury declares Mister Valeska not guilty, chaos goes off. People scream at the jury and judge to burn that monster alive, cameras flash and Bruce finds himself pressed against the wall, as plenty of cops push the angry crowd out of the room. As the people get cleared and Bruce gets his chance to step away from the wall, he suddenly sees him. He sees Jeremiah. He's standing next to his lawyer, shaking his hand, a mild expression on his face. Bruce barely has the time to process what he's seeing when Jeremiah's gaze lands on him. It makes them both stop.

Bruce's breath gets caught in his chest and for some stupid reason, his eyes begin to tear up.

Jeremiah looks good. He looks really good. His skin is still pale but of a more human colour. His hair is a bit shorter than Bruce remembers it, toned black. He's wearing a dark blue suit which makes him appear professional and mature and … normal.

Bruce wants to laugh and cry at the same time. But he remembers himself and blinks away his tears as he slowly makes his way towards Jeremiah.

The man looks at him with something close to uncertainty in his face. As if he didn't know what to expect. If Bruce was being honest with himself, he didn't know what to expect either. But that doesn't stop him in his tracks, if anything it makes him move faster as Jeremiah starts slowly walking in his direction as well.

They stop a few meters in front of each other, both achingly aware of all the people's eyes on them. Cameras start flashing again but they both ignore them, their eyes fixed solely on one another. Jeremiah's eyes still bear a cold unnamable coulour but they look softer now as they never leave Bruce's face. Bruce feels like the world has stilled. As if he had made a jump through time and space and has found Jeremiah in an alternative universe once more. He wonders what Jeremiah feels in this moment. After a while, he steps forward and offers his hand.

“Jeremiah.“

The handsome stranger (because that's what he is now) hesitates for a moment before he takes Bruce's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. It has Bruce swallow the lump in his throat. Jeremiah is touching him. He is actually standing right in front of him and they are shaking hands. More cameras flash around them and Bruce makes his move. He steps closer for just a second and shoves a small mobile phone into Jeremiah's hand with a pointed look.

Then he turns and exits the room, ignoring both Lucius's and Alfred's looks and the reporters screaming his name with the demand for a statement.

 

They agree to meet somewhere in the city. Wayne Manor is practically guarded with reporters at the moment and Bruce leaves on his bike, making it easier to get rid off those vultures. The sun is slowly fading, sinking closer and closer towards the horizon when Bruce reaches his destiny.

The abandoned warehouse reminds him so much of their relationship before that he feels his stomach drop. He wants to make up with his friend. He wants to tell him all the things he has told him in his letters already but more than anything he wants to know how Jeremiah is doing.

 

When he enters the building, Jeremiah is already there, leaning against a wall, his hands buried in the pockets of the beige trenchcoat he's wearing. He kept his shirt but discarded the suit trousers for a pair of black slacks. He looks even better than he did at the court. His whole aura radiates a feeling of professionalism. The way he carries himself is confident but it lacks the arrogance he possessed before the cure. He appears more down to earth now.

“Former safehouse?“, Bruce breaks the silence as he steps closer. He is so nervous but somehow manages to make his voice sound calm.

“More like a storage“, Jeremiah answers, moving away from the wall and stepping into the fading orange light of the sunset.

“Perfectly safe, though. Nobody frequents this place anymore these days.“ He smiles.

So, he kept his eloquence as much as his smile. Not that Bruce minds. In fact, he always thought both to be rather attractive qualities about Jeremiah. At least, they remind him of the man he used to know. It's familiar and grounding.

“I suppose, I should thank you. Even though, it might be a little late for that.“ Jeremiah says and stops a few feet away from Bruce, carefully keeping his distance. Bruce can't help but remember what Alfred had said about an obsessed man and the object of his obsession.

“You saved me from myself. Thank you for that.“

“You're welcome, I mean“, Bruce hesitates for a moment, not sure which of the pressing matters he wants to adress first.

“I've missed you“, he says instead, doubting in the same moment that this is the wisest choice he could have come up with.

Jeremiah looks on the ground, his brows furrowed. He doesn't answer.

“Why wouldn't you answer my letters? Or let me come visit you?“ Bruce can't help himself anymore. Jeremiah has pushed him away for months and it hurts.

“What did you expect, Bruce? That you'd visit me twice a week, I'd say sorry and everything was going to be fine?“ Jeremiah asks him sarcastically.

No, Bruce hadn't expected that. He had expected nothing, he realises now.

“Do you have any idea what it was like to wake up after that night at ACE chemicals?“

All Bruce can do is shake his head.

“It was like waking up from a fucking nightmare!“, Jeremiah exclaimes, his voice slightly louder than before but not aggressive, at least not going by the standarts of his former aggression potential.

“Well, with the fact that I knew that it hadn't been a nightmare but reality. I remembered all those terrible things I'd done. I remembered the anger, the hatred and the feeling of doing the right thing, no matter how twisted my intentions were.“

He stops himself to take a few deep breaths and closes his eyes briefly before going on, fairly calmer than before. Bruce wonders if this is a technique he has adopted in Arkham.

“I remember killing innocent people. I remember blowing up buildings at gunpoint. I remember shooting Selina.“ At that his eyes find Bruce's again, guilt written all over his face.

He continues in a much softer tone:

“I remember the look on your face, you begging me to stop.“

Bruce closes his eyes, tyring to stop the tears from escaping. He desperatly wants to say something to make it better, but his throat is too tight.

“It took me months to be able to look in a mirror again. I'm still working it out but I'm ready to not resent myself for the rest of my life for what I did when I was under the influence of Jerome's insanity gas.“ Jeremiah explains, his voice now clear off any emotion.

When Bruce is ready to open his eyes again, he becomes aware of the fact that Jeremiah has stepped closer in the meantime. He is standing right in front of him now, looking into his eyes. It feels strange and familiar at the same time.

“I don't expect you to do the same. For all I know, I've worked these past months to get my mind back on track and I'm not going to take any risk of losing it again. Which is why I didn't answer your letters and couldn't allow you to visit me.“

Bruce searches his face, trying to understand what Jeremiah is saying.

“Jeremiah, please“, he begins.

“I don't...hate you. I could never hate you. I want to be your friend, again.“

Jeremiah sighs.

“You see, that's exactly the point, Bruce. I don't want to be your friend. I want to be your everything.“

Bruce thinks his heart will stop. This is it. This is Jeremiah confessing...

Said one steps even closer and brings his hand up to his cheek, his knuckles softly caressing the skin. The billionaire feels as if he's about to faint. Jeremiah is so close he can smell his perfume (a new one) and he looks so handsome right now.

“I've felt this way from the first day we met and it's only been growing stronger ever since.“ He continues in a hushed voice, his gaze tender.

“Even now, in this very moment, I still want to kiss you.“

_Then do._

Bruce wants to say it but he feels too overwhelmed to react. Jeremiah has loved him from the start. This whole time, he has had his heart without realising it.

He feels something inside him break when Jeremiah pulls away. He finds himself already missing his touch. He wants to reach out and tell him to stay, to get closer, just like Jeremiah's told him back then in the interrogation room which feels like a lifetime ago now. But he can't move one single muscle. His body isn't reacting at all.

“It's like I said that day: I've realised we can't be friends“, Jeremiah quotes himself and it's weird to hear him say those words again with his voice so different.

“We can't be connected in any way. Not with everything I've done to you. Not with me still feeling this way about you.“

_Say it! Say, you love me!_

Jeremiah is about to walk past him, muttering that he's sorry and Bruce jumps in front of him before he even realises he has moved. His hands are on the other's waist as he brings their faces together.

“No. No, you don't get to leave me like this“, he whispers before he kisses him softly and briefly on the lips.

“I've searched for this cure for months. I tried everything, took any opportunity there was to have you back with me.“ He kisses him again, a bit longer this time. Jeremiah doesn't resist. If anything, Bruce can feel him lean in.

“You're not leaving me again, you hear me? You're not.“

He feels Jeremiah exhale heavily against him before he finds himself pressed up against the nearest wall, the other's lips insistent, almost desperate against his own.

He feels a fire inside his stomach that eats its way upwards, consuming him. Jeremiah is all he can see, hear, smell, feel, think.

All of a sudden he knows him, again. The man in front of him is brave, strong, brilliant, passionate and absolutely breathtaking. He is everything Bruce wants. Everything he needs.

When they begin to remove their clothes, he gets desperate himself. He hasn't realised how much he wants this. Jeremiah is moving his lips away from his, up the line of his jaw, then down to his neck where he sucks gently. Bruce can't contain the embarrassing whimpers that leave his mouth. He clutches at the other's shoulders as he feels himself being hoisted up. His stomach seems to fall a thousand feet deep. His lungs feel as though they're collapsing. When Jeremiah brings his hand between their bodies, his head falls back with a gasp. It's too much. It's too much and not enough.

In the end, Bruce loses himself in the feeling of their joined heat and Jeremiah's voice moaning his name right next to his ear.

 


End file.
